Hurt
by clair beaubien
Summary: Modern Day AU - Vin deals with Nettie's death.


It didn't hurt.

Four years ago, January 2nd, four years ago, Nettie was diagnosed. Three arteries in her heart completely blocked, and the fourth one looking mighty puny. Six months, the doctor said. He talked like maybe he learned at doctor school that if you never change the pitch of your voice, nobody'll get upset.

So in the same tone of voice you might tell somebody in public that their fly is open, he told us Nettie had maybe six months to live. Heart was too weak for bypass, it'd gone on too long now. Doctor was surprised she wasn't in a lot of pain, only short of breath. Said we could go see her, soon as they took her to her room. Casey had to go to the ladies room twice to fix her make up from where she was crying before we went to see Nettie. Saw JD's eyes fill up too, and his voice shook when he talked about having to call the others. I just pushed it all away from me and got a can of Pepsi out of the machine.

It didn't hurt.

I can't remember now going to see Nettie in her room right after that. But I know we were there with her when the doctor told her in that same smooth aggravatin' voice how bad her heart was and how they'd try "conservative" measures. Don't remember as he told her six months or not. Kept her there a few days though. Started her on a bunch of different medications, food she should or shouldn't eat , take it easy. She'd nod and agree and thank them all, but I could see the grit underneath that she'd live and die her own way no matter how many letters that fella had after his name.

So she came home. Casey and JD lived there with her anyway, and we all spent more time with her at first, all waiting I expect for her to keel right over dead, or just not wake up from one morning to the next. And at first she seemed bothered by it too. Had me take her out for a drive one day, out forty miles to the lake, telling me on the way how she wanted her funeral. No wake, she was pretty particular on that. Didn't want "a lotta sad people in dark clothes". Wanted to be cremated and set to rest under a white pine in a real pretty spot on her land. Made me kinda mad, that she was giving up just that fast when there was still lots we could try. But I just agreed with her 'cause I didn't want to upset her anymore and figured everything would work out when the time came.

But the time didn't come.

That Spring we took her a couple times to the Cleveland Clinic. They tinkered with her medications and did some tests and told her she could live ten more years. So I started counting ten years and how old I would be and maybe she'd see some grandbabies before then. Well, I'm her cousin sorta, and Casey's her niece, but I expect they'da called her 'Grandma' if either of us'd had kids by then.

Time wore on and Nettie seemed just the same, except she'd get more tired, and easier. Sometimes she'd call me in the middle of the night to take her for a drive when the summer got too hot and she couldn't breathe in her house. And we'd drive forty or a hundred miles to the lake and around and back so she'd get fresh air.

I think she was having panic attacks but didn't want to let on. But I know panic attacks and I think she was having them about dying and that took her breath and made her scared. She'd talk about how long it'd take a rescue squad to get to her and should she make her bedroom on the first floor to make it easier for them.

So I got a cordless phone and slept with it next to my bed at night, in case she needed to call me. I wasn't used to Nettie being anxious about anything. My whole life she was rock steady. She used to tell me "I'm like the earth boy, no way around me..." She said she got that from a Katherine Hepburn movie. So, seeing her so worried and fretful made me kinda touchy too. Blew up at Chris a couple times when all he did was remind me of something that I forgot to do and needed to do.

Sometimes I'd find myself staring at nothing when I shoulda been working.

But it didn't hurt. Not once, it didn't hurt.

Every once in awhile, Nettie had to go back into the hospital for the doctor to tinker with her medications, and she had a doctor's appointment every six weeks or so, and he always said she was doing fine, so Buck took to asking her "You sure there's something wrong with you Miss Nettie?"

Then she'd get tired easier and couldn't walk as far as she used to, and if she got herself too tired doing things she wasn't supposed to it'd take her a couple days to get back to normal. Back to what normal was becoming for her.

For all of us.

But it didn't hurt.

She took to collecting old pie tins and bottle openers. When work was done, and on my days off, we'd go for drives and find thrift stores and tucked away junk shops and stop and look around for things. For any little thing that might make you feel like there was still time to hope for.

Sometimes though, after work, or on my day off, she'd call and ask what I was doing, and I was tired or didn't feel good or just wanted to sit there, and I'd tell her "just gonna sit here and watch TV." when I knew what she was asking was if I'd come over and be with her, go for a drive or just do a little work around her yard. And I knew I was squandering time I'd wish I'd have back later, and her voice'd get clipped sounding and I knew her feelings were hurt, but sometimes I was tired, or didn't feel good, or I just wanted to sit there.

I'd think on all I owed her and always knew I could never pay back and shouldn't I be more tolerant and give up my time seein's I'd have all that time after she was gone. And wasn't I just bein' selfish when I was nearly the only kin she had.

And the next time Chris reminded me of something, I'd curse him under my breath.

But it didn't hurt.

Not once.

*M7*

So it went on till this past February, and Casey had a ruptured appendix and almost died. Shoulda died and almost did. And it was two weeks later to the day that Nettie went into the hospital for the last time.

They admitted her to ICU. She seemed fine at first. Tired, sure. She was getting more and more tired. But the doctor was gonna tinker her medications like he always did, then he would send her home. Like he always did.

For four years outta the ten she should've had, he'd tinker and send her home.

He always did.

They put her into a private room when the doctor said it was okay, Nettie wanted the private room. On some IV's, and oxygen when she needed it. I'd go there after work and sit a few hours with her, with everybody else coming in and out. Sometimes we overshot the '2 visitors at a time' by a half dozen or so.

And every day she got a little more pale.

And every day she got a little more tired.

The doctor started talking about what it would take to send her home. He was still tinkering, still adjusting, but her legs weren't swelling which he said was good. Just her sodium was off, I can't remember up or down and he wanted to make sure she'd be okay off the IV's before she could come home.

One Friday I spent the afternoon with her, talking and sharing ginger ale, watching I don't remember what, racing? Before I left, I told her I had a meeting that night, the Civil War group I belong to. Hadn't been to a meeting since before Casey was sick, and Nettie kissed me and said to have fun and she'd see me the next day.

The next day, all of a sudden, the doctor was saying it'd just be a couple of months and did we want Hospice?

But it didn't hurt.

Not once.

Nettie wasn't dying. She still had a couple of months. I started counting how much time that was. St. Patrick's Day, Easter, maybe Memorial Day. But she wasn't dying. She wouldn't be dying till two months.

She seemed to sleep fifty minutes out of every hour now, but not all at the same time though, and she was as white as the sheets on her bed. Still, when the doctor did come into her room, without even lifting her head, she'd ask "So, when can I get outta here?" with her voice no more than breath.

Casey and Mary seemed to be there constant, which was good since it didn't seem to bother them any to help with the bedpan. I couldn't have done that to save my life. That last week, Nettie had Casey staying with her all day and night, and Casey got to looking mighty rough 'cause Nettie didn't sleep at night too much anymore. Not all at the same time anyway.

That last week Nettie didn't seem to notice I was there most of the time anyway, so I didn't take up any more time than I could, leaving the chair for someone else. Sometimes I couldn't get out of that hospital fast enough and I'd go home and push it all away from me and take a hot shower and lay down to stare at the darkness and sleep and wake up exhausted. I don't remember when I stopped watching TV.

But it didn't hurt.

Soon as she came home with Hospice, I was gonna take her to the lake again. It'd be the last time I knew, but I'd take her back to the lake.

Until that next Friday, and the doctor said it was only a matter of days now and we could take her home with Hospice, but she might not even survive the ambulance ride home. I pushed it all away from me and went out and got dinner and went home to where Nettie would never come again and took a hot shower and slept.

I wouldn't let it hurt.

*M7*

The next morning I went to Nettie's house. The place was all alive and busy. Casey was washing the kitchen floor though I don't remember it ever being dirty. Mary was straightening up the rest of the house. Chris and Josiah and Buck and Nathan were moving furniture around in the front room for the hospital bed Nettie'd be using. Ezra was on the phone, talking with a lady he knew at Hospice, getting everything arranged. JD bless his soul was in and out of the house filling all the bird feeders Nettie has around her place.

Had.

Had around her place.

I guess I got there late. Felt a little outta my place. Not much left to do but wait for 'em to bring Nettie home.

Then wait for her to die.

If she survived the ride home.

But it didn't hurt.

Shouldn't it hurt?

*M7*

Fella with the oxygen came first. Not the big tanks anymore, this little contraption made pure oxygen out of room air. First the paper work. Then we watched him show us how to turn it on and off. It made a powerful racket at first. Came with a nose piece, Nettie never liked those in the hospital. I had one in the hospital once, liked to blow my eyes out.

Then the bed came. In pieces. Never seen the like. Wouldn't have thought you could get one of them big beds into so many little pieces. First the paperwork. Fella had his little girl with him, ten or so. Billy got to talking with her as she helped her Dad put the thing together. Got it all set real pretty with sheets and blankets and pillows, Nettie's real pretty embroidered pillow cases.

I can't remember now who came first, the Hospice Nurse, or Nettie. Maybe it was Nettie 'cause the nurse was there when she was. They brought Nettie in in a wheelchair. First there was paperwork.

Then Josiah lifted her into her recliner there, next to the hospital bed all done up so pretty with her quilt and embroidered pillow cases. Her head was down and her mouth hung open all the time now. Even the couple times she lifted her head just enough to open her eyes, her tongue just seemed too big for her mouth.

The Nurse brought incontinence pads, and swabs for if Nettie's mouth got too dry. Was telling Casey and JD how not eating or drinking anything now was a body's way of making the end easier. Said she figured Nettie wouldn't last the weekend. Casey asked about getting a mask for the oxygen, and the Nurse said she'd need a prescription from the doctor for it. Later Nathan called a friend who's an EMT and got one for her anyway.

Anyway, she didn't use the oxygen.

Then there was more paperwork from the Nurse that Casey had to go over with her. Insurance, Medicare, and such. I sat in a chair near Nettie, but not close enough to touch. The others were fussing, not too much, around her. Putting a blanket over her, trying to get her to answer them.

I don't know how long I stayed there. Maybe it was dark when I went home. It was St. Patrick's day but I don't remember if we had ham and cabbage. I don't think so. Ordered something out maybe. Pizza, Buffalo wings.

Somebody was always sitting with Nettie, holding her hand, but I didn't. She had enough people fussing over her, but not too much. She stayed in the chair, head down, mouth open and I'd watch her chest to see if it actually did move at all, or was she gone already.

But she kept breathing.

She kept being alive.

Finally I left for the night, Josiah asking was I okay and me saying 'Yeah...' as though just something aggravating was going on and not losing someone I loved. I went out to the truck that Nettie would never ride in again, and drove to the home Nettie would never visit again, took a hot shower and laid down to sleep.

Why didn't it hurt?

*M7*

Nobody called during the night, so I figured Nettie was still alive, although maybe they didn't want to tell me till I was there. It was noon, so I stopped and got some lunch but I don't remember tasting it, then I drove to her house. Everybody was there again, or still, and I guess I was the last one in again.

Nettie was still breathing. In the bed, on her pillows, under her quilt. As white as her hair. Puffy looking and not my Nettie. I didn't touch her, didn't talk to her. Told myself she was dying and everybody dies. I sat in the chair again, read a book about Hawthorne while everybody else talked and fussed and held her hand and talked to her.

I'd look over just to make sure she was still breathing.

Casey asked if I'd do the eulogy and I said "sure" and went back to reading.

After a couple hours, Casey was standing next to Nettie, and she called out to Nathan real upset. So we all stood at the bed, watching Nettie's breathing slow down.

And stop.

Nathan was feeling her pulse and then listened to her heart with his stethoscope while Casey was telling Nettie who it was that was standing with her and that everything was fine.

Then Nathan stood back.

And it was over.

She was gone.

It didn't hurt.

Ezra called the funeral home and the Hospice Nurse. Casey stood next to Nettie crying soft, and JD stood next to Casey with his arm around her. Out in the kitchen I saw Mary holding Chris real tight. Josiah, Buck, and Nathan stood in a group in the dining room.

I sat in the chair and looked at Nettie, then opened the book and started reading again.

*M7*

There was more paperwork when the Nurse came back. Even before she checked the body, Casey had to answer questions and fill out paperwork and it sounded just like everyday things to the Nurse that a family had just lost it's mother.

I went to stand beside Nettie then. She was looking yellow and waxy now. Eyes closed, mouth still open. Hands cold, real cold. Casey came over and asked if I'd help her get the medal off that Nettie wore on a chain around her neck. So I lifted Nettie's head up and Casey slipped it off.

And whoever it was dead in that bed, it wasn't my Nettie.

Because it didn't hurt.

Couple fellas from the Funeral Home came then. Looked like they got lost in Larabee's closet, all dressed in black. Nice fellas. Didn't seem any older than JD. Billy asked Mary later if they were angels. Had to rearrange furniture again so they could get the stretcher in and found dustballs under the piano. Nettie woulda been upset. Maybe she was laughing now though. More paper work first. Always damned paperwork. They were real gentle with her though, as they laid her in the body bag and zipped it up and I saw Nettie for the last time. As they were taking her out, Casey was crying and she said "You'll take care of her won't you?" and they each hugged her and said they would.

Then they took Nettie away.

Nettie was gone and I knew it and it was okay because everybody dies.

It didn't hurt.

Lady from the Funeral Home came then. I wondered how she walked on heels that high, or worked with fingernails that long. She was nice though too. Reckon you gotta be nice in that profession.

Everything started with paperwork and ended with 'total amount due'. Got everything arranged. Nettie didn't want a wake, and she wanted to be cremated, so in a couple of days we'd have the service for her and put her out under her pine trees. Seemed to take a while, with a whole lotta numbers being rattled off. It's a business after all.

After that was over with, and the lady was gone, Josiah brought some books in to arrange the service. Pick out readings and songs, that kinda thing. I felt fine. We had pizza again and after awhile I went home, took a hot shower and went to bed.

It didn't hurt.

*M7*

The next day felt weird. Empty. Whenever I had a chance, I'd sit and work on the eulogy. Found myself saying - "I'll have to ask Nettie." more than once. I didn't cry. Didn't even come close. I've got a picture of Nettie over the desk I use to write on, pictures of the others too. And my parents. Nettie's young in the picture, from the Korean War I guess. So, I'd stare at that picture and think about how she's not there anymore, and if it came to look like it would hurt, I'd push it away and think about something else until I was okay.

Didn't know what to write about her. I thought about all she'd lost. Lost her father before she was thirty. Her husband before she was forty. Her mother before she was fifty and three brothers before she was sixty. But I knew Nettie wouldn't want me talk about what she'd lost. She'd want me to talk about what she had, and who she was. What she'd meant to people, and what we'd meant to her.

So Monday passed that way.

I guess I ate something. Toast or cereal or something. Took a shower and went to bed. And the next day passed the same way. Working, writing, pushing the ache away.

That next night, Tuesday night, Casey and JD had a get together at the house. Their house. Nettie's house. Since there was no wake. I found a room nobody was in and sat in there and worked still on the eulogy. I just wanted to be alone with somebody nearby. Everybody came in though, till finally the whole party was going on in this room. Everybody was there. Telling stories, sharing memories. All the guys, all the ladies.

Well, everybody but one.

Kept waiting for Nettie to walk in, ask if anybody needed anything. Kept waiting for the chance to sit with her in the kitchen and talk.

Kept wanting to drive out to the lake with her once last time.

So the night wore on and the party broke up. Slowly though. Everybody kept remembering one last thing to say at the front door. I stood behind JD and Casey. I wanted to leave but I didn't want to be alone. Before they left, everybody asked if I was OK, and I said 'yeah' because I was okay. What was not to be okay about?

Nettie was dead.

Everyone dies.

Life goes on.

It didn't hurt.

*M7*

Chris and I left the house together. He stood in front of me. That wall of Larabee. Up close he's bigger than he looks. He wanted know how I was coming with the eulogy. I told him fine. He wondered if we might need somebody standing by to read it for me, just in case. I said no, I could do it.

"You sure?"

And I made myself stand up as tall as I could, which is still six inches below Chris. "I do what I have to." and he said he'd see me tomorrow.

Tomorrow came way too soon.

I didn't sleep very good. I remember that only because on the way into the church that next day, Josiah asked me if I slept well, and I said no. People were gathering in the vestibule there, a lot of people I didn't know, and I found a wall to lean against, next to a table near the front door. This fella who musta been from the funeral home - just because of the way he looked - came and set a wooden box on the table near me. A real pretty box, not even a foot square.

Nettie.

She was in that box.

All that was left of the woman I loved like she was my mother. The woman who guided me, loved me, protected me, yelled at me, aggravated me, and saved my life. All that was left of her fit into a real pretty wooden box, not even a foot square.

Mary came over to me, pointed over to Casey, said I should be with family. I put my hand on the box and said "I am."

It didn't hurt.

*M7*

The service went okay. As long as I didn't look or pay attention to anybody who was crying, I was okay. She had a lotta friends, Nettie touched a lotta lives. Must've been 80 people there at the service. The pretty box sat on a table between the two front pews, with a picture of Nettie next to it. I had the eulogy in my jacket pocket, all folded up, waiting for Josiah to call me up to the lectern. When he did, just about the end of the service, I stopped just a second to put my hand on the box as I walked past.

I had to pull the microphone down first, then I took a breath, one really big breath, and started to read what I'd written. I don't remember breathing again till I was done. I talked about when Nettie was born, and what she'd told me the world was like back then. I talked about her growing up, when hard times was just normal times. I talked about her family, and her friends, and how much she loved us all, and what it meant for her to pass time with us. How much she loved to go to the lake. I talked about the people she'd lost, and how we'd all lost people, how they were still with us as long as we remember them, and talk about them.

It didn't hurt.

*M7*

We had a nice reception at Nettie's house - Casey's house now - before the interment. People - a lot of them I didn't even know - kept coming up, telling me how nice the eulogy was. I kept telling them, it didn't even cover a tenth of what I shoulda said about her. I guess I had something to eat, don't remember what. A sandwich I think. Potato salad? I don't know. It went on a while, all these people standing around talking. I kept looking around for Nettie, I know I did. Kept waiting for her to just be there.

But she wasn't.

People started leaving. It was a Wednesday, a lotta of 'em couldn't stay for burying her ashes. Said goodbye to most of them. Got hugged by a lot of them. Got told again how nice the eulogy was. Said again how it didn't say nearly enough.

Then it was time to go to her grave.

I don't know who carried her ashes in the pretty box. Maybe somebody from the funeral home. It was a real nice pretty piece of ground, within sight of the house, maybe three hundred feet. Under white pine in ground inches deep in pine needles. A real nice pretty spot.

Josiah said some more things, something about consecrating the ground. We all stood around the little square hole dug into the ground and he said a prayer over the box. They opened the box, the funeral home people, and took out the real container, a little plastic box. They set that down into the hole, then filled it in again with the pails of soil they took out. Finally they set the little square of sod back on top and if you didn't know you couldn't tell than anything had gone on here, or that anybody you ever thought you'd die without had been buried here.

Why didn't it hurt?

We said the Lord's Prayer then. Over that little spot of ground where it looked like nothing had ever happened. Said the prayer, then said goodbye, then walked back to the house.

Then it was over, and she was gone.

We went back to the house, but I couldn't stay there. Didn't want to stay around other people. Just wanted to get home and outta the stiff clothes, and take a hot shower. So I left, probably too fast. I don't know. Got tired of being asked was I okay, when I wasn't the only one lost somebody. We all lost somebody. Not just me. I was fine. I just had to get out of there.

So I went home. And my life started over again. Less one person.

It was hard at first, going through the days, I never realized how often I'd thought of her before, till now she wasn't there. But I'd still think - I'll have to tell Nettie, or ask her or remember to show her. And I'd have to remember that she wasn't there to tell or ask or show.

I still laughed though. Still paid my bills, put gas in my truck, listened to music.

Didn't go to the lake though.

Couldn't even think about going to the lake.

That would hurt.

*M7*

A couple of months passed that way. Eight weeks from the funeral. I knew Nettie was dead and gone, knew I'd never see her again in this life. I knew that. I accepted it. It didn't hurt. Eight weeks from the funeral I was cleaning up around my front room, and found a greeting card tucked into a book I'd been reading when - and hadn't read since - Casey was in the hospital. It was a St. Valentine's Day card. Inside Nettie had written "Love Guess Who".

Well I stared at that card, and stared at it. When I could breathe again I set it upright on my TV and went back to cleaning.

It got worse after that. Little things would remind me of her so fast and so hard it was all I could do to push it away from me each and every time. People stopped asking if I was okay, since so much time had passed. I never woulda told anybody anyway. That's not something I'd share. My pain is mine and I've got little enough left things that are mine and nobody else's and I wouldn't share that.

Started getting fractious again, I know. If things didn't go right, or the way I wanted them too, or if the wind was from the North and not the Northeast, it grated on me something raw. Guess I figured in the back of my mind that it was missing Nettie. Didn't let on though, not to myself or anybody else. I had dreams about her, where she was young, but she always had her back turned and I never saw her face.

Casey was having trouble sleeping, she said. I didn't have trouble sleeping, only it never seemed to do any good and I was tired all the time. Tired and fractious. I tried keeping away from people and not talking to anybody, 'cause I knew I'd only snap at 'em for no good reason. Or not much good reason sometimes.

But it didn't hurt.

Got to be Memorial Day coming up. Chris and the others started talking about having a picnic down to the lake. Everybody seemed to think it was a real good idea. Everybody seemed to think it was such a good idea.

I didn't think I could ever go back there again. I hadn't been there since before Nettie died, and I couldn't remember when that was anyway. Lake was down, I remember that. Nettie'd been well enough to walk along the beach with me. I walked out into the mud of the lake bed, got my foot caught in it and nearly sprained my ankle trying to get my foot and my boot out both at the same time. I found some snow to walk through to clean the mud off, then we drove some more and went to dinner.

I didn't think it'd be the last time we were ever there together.

I didn't want to go back.

It would hurt so bad it would kill me.

Still, whenever anybody asked what I thought of the idea, I'd say it sounded great and what could I bring? Praying I'd be sick when the actual day rolled around. Trying to think up good excuses for not going.

I didn't want to go back there.

I didn't want to hurt.

*M7*

Life went on. My life. Everything was normal. I thought so. Kept pushing away thinking about going to the lake. When the time came I just wouldn't go. Everything seemed to hurt more though. Little things that aggravated me before seemed to cut deeper and take longer to heal. I talked less to people and got more work done. Couldn't even manage to be sociable seemed like. Ask me any tiny little question and I'd snap and snarl and drive them away.

Well, Chris didn't go anywhere.

He came in the one day and asked me what's wrong. Nothing. Nothing was wrong. Was it going to the lake? And I kept doing what I was doing and said I supposed so. That and losing Nettie seemed to be catching up to me. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell somebody. But I didn't want anybody to know. He asked was I okay. And I wondered well what the hell kinda stupid question is that when the person I loved most in the world is dead and I never realized how much I depended on her for tiny little things like just being there - how am I supposed to be okay?

So anyway, I just said yeah.

There were good days too I reckon. Can't say there weren't. Days when laughing came easy. Too easy maybe, looking back on it now. Nervous laughing like maybe it wasn't allowed or something. I don't know. Things still had the habit of going really wrong really fast and setting my teeth on edge. Still talked less and worked more and the dark nighttimes were just so darn loud in emptiness it was hard to sleep.

Sometimes I could hear Nettie's voice, in my head. Sometimes I'd feel her behind me, putting her arms around me, telling me everything was okay now. And I'd tell her "I know" and think about something else.

So Memorial Day got to be the next day. Still daylight after dinner, after work, Chris and I were sitting on his back porch stairs, drinking lemonade. He didn't say anything for awhile. Neither did I though, I suppose. I was nearly sick with thinking about the next day. Even just the drive to the lake was going to kill me. If I didn't go, everybody'd be wanting to know was I okay, was it the lake, why didn't I say something, we coulda had the picnic anywhere, it's okay to grieve, it takes time, was I okay...

I heard Chris tell me that if my shoulders got any higher, they'd be over my head. I guess that was so. Been going to the lake with Nettie since I was small. And the mountains beyond. I grew up there. I was alive there like nowhere else. I don't think there was more than a few times I was there without Nettie. And she'd been going there since before she could remember. The place was just her. It was her all over. It would kill me.

I put my arm around the porch upright and leaned my head against it. Empty, just empty inside. Didn't want to move. Didn't want to be alone. Didn't want to sleep. Didn't want to be with anybody. Didn't want to wake up the next morning and go to the lake. Didn't want to face the hell I knew it was going to be. I pushed my shoulders down.

Sun started to set and I knew I should be heading off to home. Take a hot shower and lay down to sleep. But I didn't want to sleep. And dinner wasn't feeling too good where it was. Wanted somebody to be there, but couldn't think what I might want them to do if they were there. To just lay down and sleep while somebody went on doing what they were doing. Long as it was in the same room, or just nearby. Didn't matter if it was watching TV, or reading the newspaper, or vacuuming or whatever. If I just had somebody nearby me while I was sleeping.

So Chris asked was I tired, and I told him the truth. I'm always tired.

Tomorrow wasn't going to bring me anything but more grief. Nettie and I'd gone to that lake and those mountains so many times in my life that there wasn't a rock or tree or patch of ground we didn't know. Hardly a parcel of ground that didn't have a memory growing right along with the grass.

Seemed like there wasn't any part of my life either that didn't have some memory, or spur some memory. Pain like a dull knife, trying to cut into me. Times when even good things happening to me made my eyes fill up and sometimes overrun. Couldn't even go into my bathroom to take a shower without remembering Nettie in there arranging my closet for towels and sheets and winter blankets. Man oughtta be able relieve himself without wanting to cry.

Had to concentrate to remember her voice.

Had to work to isolate her face in my memory.

She was fine right up until those last few days. What the hell happened?

Couldn't sleep that night anyway. Nowhere to go though. Thought about driving off to the lake in the middle of the night. Get it over and done with. Stupid idea. If I thought I couldn't stand it in the broad daylight, what'd I think dead of night would to me? It'd run me down like a bus was what. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't stand to be in the house. Nowhere to go outside. Got a little porch there and a couple chairs. Got light there from the dawn to dusk light in the yard. Too restless though.

Didn't want to hurt.

Thought about watching TV, but stopped just as my hand got near the ON button. Thought about listening to music, couldn't find anything I wanted to listen to. Nothing in the fridge I wanted to eat. Nuked a bag of popcorn, then left it in the microwave. Drank some water, but that wasn't what I wanted.

Tomorrow was going to be pain and hell and suffering and it was just dragging on in it's coming. And I wanted it over and done with and over.

Laid down. Sat up. Rolled over. Turned the pillows. Counted my fingers. Pushed away every painful memory. Finally I took some nighttime headache medicine I've had forever. I could hear the first birds chittering in predawn when my eyes finally gave in or took over and demanded I go to sleep.

*M7*

It was the knocking woke me up, my eyes feeling swollen and heavy like I'd been drinking too much or not sleeping enough. Larabee was knocking on my door, asking was I okay? He sounded real worried. Turns out I slept through my alarm and it was past ten o'clock. I pulled jeans on and let him in. He said I looked like hell and was I okay. Told him I had a headache which wasn't nearly a lie 'cause I'd took headache medicine. My head felt like it was solid now anyway. Told him I was sorry I missed work. He said some of the fellas were over anyway, Buck and JD and helping take care of it. Take care of the horses with the hired help.

He kept wanting to know was I okay. I kept saying yeah. He kept looking at me like I was lying. I asked could I ride with him to the lake and what time was he leaving.

When he decided I was telling the truth, or that he wasn't gonna get the truth outta me anyway, he left and I went to take a shower and get dressed. When I pulled a towel out of my closet, a bar of soap fell out of it. It was the handmade oatmeal and lilac soap Nettie used to get at the craft village or whatever you call it at the lake. It wasn't there before. Not in my closet.

I didn't think so anyway.

Mary and Billy went off to the lake early, by design or default I don't know. All I know is, after finding that soap and smelling how Nettie used to smell, I drove to the lake in Chris' truck afraid to blink for the tears that would spill over if I did. And the ones that did even when I didn't blink.

Chris'd talk to me and I'd answer him and he didn't notice or he just didn't say I don't know. But it got worse and worse. Every mile we drove I remembered something else about Nettie. I heard her telling me stories and telling me that she was still nearby and telling me that everything would be okay. And I couldn't get it to stop, couldn't stop hearing her voice, feeling her hands, smelling that damn lilac soap.

Finally I couldn't help it and I couldn't stop it and I didn't know what to do. I put my head down and squeezed my eyes shut and just let tears roll down my face without trying to wipe them away. I tried to breathe normal. Chris didn't say anything and I thought it was better that he didn't. After a couple minutes I finally pushed it away from me and I wiped my face and looked out the window.

A few minutes later Chris said something like look at that horse rolling in the dirt, and it was okay. The rest of the trip was hell. But I was okay.

The lake didn't look any different and I didn't think that was fair that Nettie could sink so fast and die and be gone and everything look the same here. Chris got out of the truck and went around to the back to take out an ice chest. I didn't move. Kept looking at the door handle, thinking 'open the door' 'open the door' but it wasn't getting through to my hands.

Then Chris was at my door, asking "Do you want to go home?" like you'd ask somebody was coughing, do you wanna sit up? Not like it was the most ungrateful thing he could think of, but like he had the keys in his hand already. I wanted to go home, take more pills and go to sleep. I don't care if it was running from the pain, or delaying the inevitable or cowardly or whatever it was. I wanted to go home.

But I could see past Chris down to the huge grass lawn at the edge of the beach, I could see the others there already. The picnic tables were already laid out with food, and they had horseshoes and badminton, and playing catch. Where was Nettie? My heart was looking for Nettie there amongst the picnic tables and people having a good time. She was supposed to be there telling me its about time I showed up and asking me did I want root beer or cream soda to drink.

So God it started again and I couldn't stop it. And Chris had his hand on my shoulder, telling me not to fight it. But I did fight it. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut and dug my fingernails into my palms as short as they are as hard as I could and I fought it. Crying wasn't gonna do me any good. Wouldn't bring her back. Wouldn't do anything but give me a headache and make me feel stupid.

Then it was over and I scrubbed my eyes and rolled up the window and got out of the truck and carried my back pack and the other ice chest over to the tables and Chris followed next to me and didn't say anything. Nobody else said anything either. And there was a lot of them coulda said something. I didn't really look at anybody though, but I knew they were throwing looks at Chris, asking without talking and I guess thank God he was answering 'back off' because nobody pestered me.

I was restless though. Didn't want to sit down and maybe have to talk to anybody, didn't want to walk around and find somewhere else to sit alone. It wasn't hot out. Warm maybe, long as the wind didn't blow. But it did. So I walked around the tables just for something to do and grabbed a potato chip out of a plastic bowl and ate it as slow as I could while I stared out at the lake. It was open for swimming, but only a few people were out in it. Even the lifeguards had sweatshirts on so the water must've been cold. I couldn't stand to eat anything else, not even a cheese doodle, and I didn't know what else to do with myself.

The beach wasn't as crowded as it should've been. Being cold maybe. So I sat under a close spindly pine tree and took a book out to read. Chris asked what did I want to drink, all I could do was shrug. It's not that I didn't know, I didn't even care. He brought root beer over though, and a bowl of Chex-mix. I thought then that maybe I wanted him to sit with me there, but I didn't say that when he asked did I need anything else. I just said no, thanks, and he went back to the tables and I went back to the book.

Little while later Buck asked did I want to play horseshoes. No, thanks. I stink at it anyway. Ezra was setting up some kinda competition for Gloria's kids, and Billy and Olivia. Who could draw the best picture of the lake. Winner got something, didn't hear what. Only 'course once they were done they were all so good everybody won. Only 'course, that didn't set too well with Olivia till Ezra said attitude would get her automatically disqualified.

My head still felt like it was solid and my eyes stung in the sunlight. Woulda given anything to lay down and go to sleep. Thought about going back to lay down in the truck, but I would've had to talk to Chris, get the keys from him. And anyway it would've meant standing up. Didn't want to do either. Ground got hard though. Hearing people laugh and have fun got kinda hard too. Felt like mosquitoes swarming me. Finally so I got up and Casey was closest to me and I told her I was going for a walk. Left my back pack. Followed the path there around the lake toward the next picnic area. Less people there, more shade, it was colder.

Walked that path a lotta times with Nettie. I remember walking it the first time after the Parks Department installed it. Made it. Paved it. Whatever. I was a kid. Ten maybe? Over all the years, we must've stopped at every bush, every tree, every turn in that path to look at something, touch something, talk about something. I could feel her next to me now and I didn't want to. I walked faster and she came with me. Thought about stopping to sit at a picnic table, but that woulda looked stupid, sitting all by myself at a picnic table, doing nothing but staring. I kept walking.

Up a little ways there was a bridge over the creek that runs into the lake. One of the creeks. Wasn't anybody on the far side of it so I went down there, nearly tripping over myself trying so fast to get where there was a solid wall of anything I could lean against and fight all the stupid feelings I was feeling.

Trying so hard not to hurt.

People walked over the bridge every once in awhile. Don't know as they saw me or not. I tried to sit so it looked like I was looking at the creek and not like I was holding my breath trying to keep from crying like a fool out there where anybody could see me. I don't know how long it was I sat there, not knowing what I was going to do if somebody came looking for me. Or what I'd do if nobody came. Nettie was there with me, I could feel her, sitting with me. And I wanted her there, and I wanted her to leave and I wanted her to be alive so I didn't have to grieve for her.

Got hard to keep holding my breath. My hands were getting raw from where I was holding the rocks so tight they dug in. Heard Chris coming down the side of the creek next to me. All it took was looking once at Chris' face and him asking 'how're you doing?' like there wasn't anything would keep him from finding out the answer.

And I couldn't answer. I tried but all that came out was one of those damn squeaky sounds when you want to breathe in and your body wants you to cry out. Then he had my arm and he was pulling me to my feet, having me walk with him up to the road. His truck was up there. Him not saying anything and me trying to breathe in between holding my breath and finally remembering to drop the rocks out of my hands.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked me again when we were in the truck, same tone of voice like 'do you want milk in your tea?' and I couldn't answer him, didn't know that I wanted to go home anyway. Didn't know what I wanted. He asked 'go for a drive awhile?' and that seemed to be okay so I nodded. Not looking at him. Not looking out the truck windows. He drove the truck and I fought with myself to get calm so we could go back to the picnic and everything would be okay.

I thought he'd just drive around the lake once or twice or however long it took me to be okay. And it wouldn't take me long because I didn't want it to. But he headed off up one of the roads into the mountains. Great, more places I'd been with Nettie. That's gonna help a lot. I didn't know where we were headed, I didn't ask. I was still trying not to breathe. Chris wasn't driving fast, you would've thought we were Sunday driving, getting the view. Looked out the window a few times, but it was easier keeping my head down.

Felt the truck go down a gravel road then. Old lumber road or something. Been down it with Nettie lotsa times. Old farmland, old apple orchards still grow there. Figured Chris was just taking a long way around. We stopped though, at an old foundation. Been there too with Nettie, I remember when we found it the first time. Chris got out of the truck. Nobody around that I could see or hear. Just us. He didn't ask was I getting out, did I want to get out, he just opened the door and said 'come on'.

I was shaking, not cold, but shaking. Had my teeth gritted so hard my jaw ached. I followed him over to the foundation, to a solid part of the wall still standing that we could sit on. And we sat there. This was in a clearing so the sun got to us so it was kinda warm. Long as the wind didn't blow. I wondered if he'd been working the whole way here on what he might want to say. Started telling me what grief was to him. When Sarah and Adam died. He said grief to him was seeing them everywhere, feeling them, hearing their voices, wishing they were there, missing them so bad he couldn't stand it. Hating to sleep. Hating to wake up. Having nothing to look forward to.

He asked me what grief was for me. So I told him. It's a tiny room. Dark, damp, cold, and empty. No windows and no way out once you're in there. He said it's not empty. He said "I'm in there Vin." It was like somebody shot me it hurt so bad. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't sit there with him. I knew what he'd say next. I started to walk away from him and when I heard him following me, I started to run. I didn't want to hear it.

Chris caught up with me before I got to the woods at the edge of the clearing. He grabbed my arm to stop me. I really had the urge to cover my ears and make noise so I couldn't hear him say it. But I didn't, and he said it. "Nettie is in there too." and that was just all I could stand. I screamed. I just stood there and screamed it hurt so bad. No words, no tears, nothing but scream.

It hurt. It hurt so bad I knew it would never stop hurting and the door was closing on that little tiny cold damp room and I was in there all alone and I'd never get out and nobody would ever come in looking for me and I'd be trapped in there forever. Forever and alone. I was so deep into that emotional room of misery that if I'd opened my eyes and Chris was gone it wouldn't have surprised me.

But he was there. When I finally ran out of breath and my throat felt as raw as my hands, I was crying. I was bent down, bent over, with my arms crossed against my stomach like I was protecting a wound. Chris was still there. He was still there. Saying something. What do you say to someone's been screaming? How does it go back to how it was normal after you've been screaming? It was like throwing up and throwing up when there's nothing left inside of you and you can't stop feeling like you're turned inside out. He put his hand on my head, and his arm across my shoulders.

What was he saying? That I wasn't alone. He was with me. And Nettie was with me. It hurt so bad. It hurt so bad I would've done anything to make it stop hurting. He got me to straighten up a little. He put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a light push that I should stand up. He kept his other arm around me too and when I was standing up I scrubbed my eyes with my sleeve and he gave me a handkerchief. Must've been a Boy Scout, always prepared.

The worst seemed to be over. There was some left, I could feel it. Wouldn't take much to send me over the edge again. And I did it to myself. I told Chris "I miss her so much." and there I went again. Crying, nearly choking on it all. Chris hugged me. He hugged me and held on. I felt stupid. Stupid for crying. For crying in front my best friend. In front of my best friend who was holding me. In the middle of a field on the edge of the forest. Probably scared all the animals in the state. But it felt good. Like I finally got to set down a weight I'd been carrying for a real long time. He's got a bony shoulder. Didn't matter 'course. What was he saying?

He had his head down close to mine, talking to me like I wonder he must've talked to Adam, or maybe Billy now, when something bad and scary chased them down. I'm here. You're safe. It's okay to cry. It's okay to hurt. That one surprised me. It's not okay to hurt, any fool knows that. He kept saying it. I'm here. It's okay to hurt. It's okay to hurt, I'm here. That one made a little more sense to me. He rubbed my back and kept one arm hard around me. Seemed like I'd be crying forever.

I could feel the wind on me, hear it blowing through the trees. I could feel Chris' arms around me. Suddenly realized I was standing on his foot and I think I laughed. Chris musta took it as something else though 'cause he tightened his hold on me. He didn't let go even when I finally stopped crying. Or as close as it seemed I was going to get any time soon. And I let him hold onto me.

After a little while, he asked was I okay. Must be like microwave popcorn. You gotta check so many seconds after the last pop. And I was okay. Tired as all get out, head hurt like it was in a vice. Eyes, hands, and throat all raw. But I was okay. So I told him I was. He asked was I sure. Still not letting go. Yeah, I'm sure. I woulda stayed there forever, but I figured maybe I should get off his foot. So I let go first. I stepped away and said sorry. He starts in with nothing to be sorry about, natural to feel like that. I told him no I was standing on your foot. Seemed like he didn't realize, but he said "Yeah, it was killing me, I never thought you'd get off."

How was it I could laugh so soon after I was crying? But I did. Chris laughed too. He watched my face though. If I didn't want to have meltdown again, I couldn't look at him looking at me so concerned. I said I guess we should head back. They'd be worried. He didn't say anything. He was still looking at me, I could tell. I had to look at him, that's what he was waiting for. I'm okay I told him again. It's okay to head back.

Seemed a whole lot farther back to the truck then it'd been to walk away from. Seemed a whole lot higher to get into the truck then it had been before. I shut the door and I didn't shut it hard enough on the first try. Had to shut it again. Chris pulled out two bottles of water and I drank mine down in about three swallows. We headed back down the gravel road to the main road, back to the lake. I put my head back and closed my eyes. My head hurt, my throat hurt, my hands hurt. I was okay.

*M7*

Parked a little farther away from the beach this time. Somebody else got the space we had before. Didn't say anything between us walking back to the picnic tables and everybody having a good time. Seemed funny to me that I could've gone off and had a nervous breakdown and come back to everything being just the same as when I left. Just let me reclaim my seat under the tree and I'd be happy the rest of my life. The rest were gathering around the table, getting food and finding seats.

Saw one of those all out lawn chairs under the tree though. The kind you can lay down on. Well, I could find somewhere else to sit. Lotta trees in the area. Got closer though and Mary said she hoped it was okay she put the lawn chair there for me. Said it hurt her just to see me sitting there on the ground. No that's fine, thought I might take me a nap anyway, got me a headache. Rain brought me some gingerale and painkillers. Terry asked I liked german potato salad right? and brought me over some food. Gloria left a stadium blanket with me just in case.

Chris brought a chair over and ate with me. Then Buck and JD, Nathan, Ezra and Josiah seemed to find a place near me too. I knew it wasn't over. There was still lots inside me. Crying wasn't the end of my hurting, it was the start of my healing. I knew that. But it was okay. Talked about the weather and the beach and what a beautiful day it was. JD said it was the kind of day Nettie would love and he wished she was here. I said she is.

*M7*

Somebody took my plate when I was done and I put my head back and closed my eyes. Kinda fell asleep, not really. Could still hear what was going on. I was kinda cold, but I didn't want to use the blanket, didn't want anybody to think I was sick. Billy came and climbed into my lap. Without even asking. Not that he had to ask. But he climbed up and settled himself against my chest. Had his head under my chin. Said he was tired. I said me too. I put the blanket around him then, put my arms around him and rested my head on his. After awhile we both fell asleep.

*M7*

The End


End file.
